


The Struggle is Real...

by Highkingeliot



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 23:23:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14248029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highkingeliot/pseuds/Highkingeliot
Summary: Eliot struggles with initial rejection. Quentin helps him work through it.





	The Struggle is Real...

“Please Margo, I’ve never even seen him eat a candy bar.” Quentin protested as Margo drug him towards the kitchen. 

“Quentin, you’ve never seen him like this.” 

“He’s fine. He said everything was fine.”

“That’s what he said. Did he also look away when he said it then walk away?”

“Well, yeah but that’s what people do.” Quentin argued. 

She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him over to the doorway. He looked in to see Eliot sitting at the island with a plate of pancakes. 

“So he’s eating breakfast.” 

“Seven pancakes and five strips of bacon is not Eliot’s typical breakfast.” Margo snapped. 

“Maybe he’s hungry today.” Quentin shrugged and turned to leave. 

“Hey, you caused this, you’re watching him.”

“You’re going to make me watch him eat?”

“You don’t know do you?”

“Know what?”

“Ugh, come with me.” She took his arm and led him to the living room. She pulled out a small book and opened to a few pages in.

“Here.” She handed him the book. 

“Ok, so it’s some kid.” Quentin tried to hand the book back.

“Q. That’s El.” She stood there with her arms crossed. 

“No. It looks nothing like him.” He looked down at the overweight pre-teen in the photo. 

“It’s him.” She snapped. “He had a rough time when he was younger.”

“Yeah, he said he thought he killed some guy and that’s how he found magic.” 

“He did kill him. That guy tortured him and made fun of him and abused him.”  
“Ok so what does this have to do with me?”

“What happened ?”

“Nothing.” 

“Quentin!”

“Ok… he um… “ Quentin brushed some hair out of his face and tried to think of what to say. “He asked me out…I think….” 

“He what?!”

“He asked if I’d go out with him to like dinner or something or …I …don’t know.” 

“Quentin.” 

“Ok, he asked if I’d go out to dinner with him.” 

“And what did you say?”

“I told him I wasn’t sure.” 

“Then what?”

“He said it’s ok, that I didn’t have to. He said it was fine and kind of smiled and walked off.” Quentin shrugged. 

“Has he seen you since then?”

“No. I thought I saw him in the courtyard but must have been someone else.” 

“Well let me tell you a little story. When El was younger, his whole thing about eating his emotions on a professional level, wasn’t a lie. He worked out for several hours a day to look like he does now. It took him a lot to get to where he is or where he was.” She looked over at the kitchen. 

“Shit, really?”

“Yep and now he’s in there eating half a box of pancake mix worth of pancakes and I am not sure how much bacon.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Shit.” 

“Margo!!” Eliot called from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s my cake?”

“What cake?”

“You know what cake! What’d you do with it?!!”

“Eliot, stop!”

“No!”

“Wait here.” She held her hand up signaling Quentin to stay. 

He followed her anyway. 

“Eliot, this is not a good look for you.”

“I don’t give a shit bambi. Give me my cake!”

“El.” 

“Margo.” He stared at her. 

“Fine. But I don’t want to hear how fat you are tomorrow.” She slid the plate over to him.

He grabbed the plate and walked out of the kitchen past Quentin and up to his room. Quentin stood there in shock. He’d never seen Eliot like this before. 

“This is because of you.” Margo snapped and chased after Eliot.

She ran up stairs and tried to open Eliot’s door. 

“Eliot! Let me in!”

“Go away!” He yelled sounding muffled by a mouth full of cake. 

“Eliot!!”

“Go away Margo!!” 

Eliot continued to eat his rather large slice of cake. After a while he heard a small knock on the door. 

“El?”  
It was Quentin.

“What do you want?” He snapped.

“Can we talk?”

“No.” 

A moment of silence passed.

“Eliot, I really need to talk to you, please?”

“Well since you said please….” 

Quentin heard him walk over to the door and unlock it. He slowly opened it a small amount and shoved his dirty plate out. 

“Wash that.” He said quickly closing the door and locking it again.

Quentin sighed, picked up the plate and walked downstairs.

“What the hell are you doing back down here?”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, obviously.” Quentin snapped as he walked to the kitchen.

“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy. You go up there and fix this.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Figure it out nerd boy or I’ll scar you physically as much as you scarred him emotionally.” 

“He won’t talk to me!”

“Make him.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Let me resolve this for you.” 

Quentin looked at her and absentmindedly washed the plate that had been given to him. 

“Ok fine.” 

“What would you do if something happened to him?”

“I don’t know….I’d be ….. um”

“Just say it, you’d be sad.” 

“Well, yeah, he’s my friend.” 

“Oh Q you are oblivious.” She rolled her eyes and walked over almost pinning Quentin against the wall. 

“What?”

“Do you like him?”

“I guess… as a ….” 

“Stop there Coldwater.” She held her hand up. 

“What?”

“Do you like him?” She asked more intensely. 

“I guess….” 

“Fuck Quentin, first answer. Do you like him?!” She basically yelled about two inches from his face.

“Yes!”

“Solved.” 

“What?”

“Look, I’m not stupid. I knew you liked him. The way you look at him, the way you talk to him, the stupid look you get on your face any time someone says his name.” 

“I don’t….” He rolled his eyes and looked away as Margo interrupted him.

“Eliot.” She said looking directly at him. “That face.” 

“I don’t make a….” She held up her hand in his face as she pulled out her phone. 

She pointed the phone at him. 

“Eliot.” She snapped a picture. “That face.” She showed him the picture.  
“What…” 

“Just admit you like him.” She moved closer pinning him against the wall. “Look, I don’t know what kind of homophobic shit you came from….” 

“There wasn’t any. My parents like me no matter what.” He attempted to defend himself.

“Then fucking tell him you like him!” She pushed him against the wall. “Stop being such a chicken shit. No one here is going to care if you fuck him on top of the damned school logo. Him, he cares.” She said pointing up signaling she was talking about Eliot. “He’s had enough rejection and scars and abuse. It took all he had and a damned two hour pep talk just to get him to ask you out and your fucking response is ‘I don’t know’? Fuck you Quentin.” She pushed him and backed away. 

“Two hours?”

“Yeah, cause I was the one who talked him into telling you.” She said almost on the verge of tears. “Then you go and do this to him.” 

“I….don’t….” 

“No, you don’t.” She snapped. “And now he’s up there eating his pain away just like when he was abused as a kid. Go fucking fix this!!” She yelled and pointed, signaling him to leave the room.

“Ok.” 

He slowly walked up the stairs knowing full well what he’d meet. 

He knocked on the door.

“Eliot.” 

“Go away!” He sounded like he was eating something else. 

“We need to talk.” 

“No we don’t.” 

“Yes. We do….” He slowly let out brushing some hair out of his face. “Please? It’s important.” 

“I don’t care.” 

“God, would you stop being so damned dramatic and just talk to me?!”  
He looked away and looked back just in time to see the door swing open and see Eliot charging at him. 

Eliot pushed him against a wall and held him at his throat. 

“Fuck you Quentin god damned Coldwater!” He held him against the wall fighting back tears. 

The words Quentin spoke hit a nerve with Eliot. His father had said similar things to him when he was younger. Eliot held him against the wall for a few moments and watched him struggle before letting him go. 

He watched as Quentin slumped to the floor and took a few deep breaths. He turned and walked back into his room and slammed the door. 

Quentin slowly got up and ran down stairs. 

“What the…” 

“Not now Margo!” Quentin yelled as he ran out the front door. He found a ladder in the bushes and leaned it against the house. He’d found Eliot’s window and positioned the ladder. 

He slowly started climbing as he heard Margo rushing outside. 

“What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?”

“Playing Romeo and Juliet?”

“If that’s what it takes.” 

He continued climbing, momentarily forgetting his fear of heights.

He went to knock on Eliot’s window and noticed it was part way open. He slowly opened the window and started to climb in. 

“What the fuck?!” Eliot yelled as he hurled a candy bar at Quentin’s head.

“It’s me.” 

“Jesus, what the fuck do you want?”

“We need to talk.” 

“No, we don’t!”

Eliot walked over to the window and for a brief moment debated pushing the ladder over. 

“Please El.” Quentin looked up at him worried.

“Fine, you have three sentences to convince me to let you in.” Eliot stood at the window and took another bite of his candy. 

“Look, I was stupid before.” 

“One.” He took another bite. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“Two.” 

“I do like you.” 

“Three.” Eliot said and started closing the window.

“Eliot! Look, I like you. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I…..”

Eliot didn’t say anything, just stood there looking stoic with his hand on the window.

He let out a sigh.

“Fine.” Eliot sighed and opened the window. He took a few steps back. 

Quentin climbed in and noticed empty snack wrappers and a full ashtray. 

“Eliot.” He said looking around.

He looked over and saw Eliot siting on the floor next to his bed, rifling through a small box.

“Twix?” He said pulling out some candy offering it to Quentin.

“Uh… sure.” He walked over and sat down next to Eliot. He took the candy. “Thanks.” 

Eliot didn’t move just picked another piece out of the box and opened it. 

“So, what do you want?” 

“I wanted to talk to you.”  
“About what?”

“Earlier.” 

Eliot sighed.

“I get it. You don’t like me that way. It’s fine.” He said looking away.

“But, I….” He hesitated. “I do.” 

“It’s fine Quentin. You don’t have to like me.” 

“But I do. I just suck at actually saying it.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine. You can do whatever you want.” 

“Eliot.” 

“Look, Quentin, you don’t have to like me just cause I decided to go on an all night binge fest.” 

“That’s not why.” 

“Then what?”

“Look Margo….” 

“Ok, you don’t have to like me for fear of Margo either.” 

“No. She talked to me and made me realize…. Well made me admit it out loud.” 

“Get to the point Quentin.”

“Ok. Look. I never felt about a guy like I have you and I was scared…..” He paused and brushed hair out of his face. “I’ve liked plenty of girls and stuff and never really was opposed to dating guys but never found a guy that made me feel like that.” 

“What?”

“All I kept thinking was trying to see you. Like wanting to find you after my classes and trying to see where you sat to eat lunch and hoping I could spend time with you.” He looked around nervously. 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah….Like…um… when you asked me out I didn’t know what to say. I was too focused on what people would say or what would happen. Like. I don’t know.”

“What does it matter what others think?”

“I know. I get that now.” He admitted, feeling guilty.

“So, what?”

“I want to go out with you.”

“What?” He said mid bite. 

“I like you. I want to go out with you. Please?”

Eliot set his candy down and looked over at Quentin. 

“Really?”

“Yes. Please, can we do that dinner?”

Eliot half smiled as his eyes teared up. 

“Eliot, will you go out with me?” Quentin smiled.

Eliot smiled as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“Yeah.” 

He slid closer to Quentin and hugged him. 

“I’m sorry I put you through this El.” 

“It’s my own fault.” 

“El…” 

“Oh for the love of God just bang!!” 

“Margo!!” They both yelled in unison. 

“Oh like you didn’t know I was listening.” 

“Damn it Bambi!!” 

“Just fuck his little first year nerd brains out.”  
“Jesus!” 

Eliot laughed at Quentin’s face turning red. 

“Ok Bambi, it’s fine, you can go now.” 

“Good cause I don’t want to hear that. Just keep it down.”

They both started laughing as Margo walked away. 

Quentin looked over at Eliot and smiled at him. 

“So, what now?”

“Well, you could stay and we can watch a movie?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Eliot said pulling out his laptop and a DVD. 

Quentin slowly stood up and picked up the wrappers and threw them in the trash can while Eliot got up and changed. 

“I don’t have any pajamas.” Quentin said looking around. 

“Here.” Eliot said tossing him an old t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Damn, I didn’t think you owned anything like this.” 

“No one does. I only wear them to bed or when I’m sick.” 

Eliot made the bed and laid down. 

Once Quentin was changed he joined Eliot on the bed. 

“Comfy?” Eliot asked.

“Uh… yeah.” Quentin shyly answered as he brushed his hair out of his eyes. 

“Good. This is one of my favorites.” Eliot said as he started the movie.


End file.
